


Whosits And Whatsits Galore

by nerdwegian



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tony No, Tumblr Prompt, stay out of this tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdwegian/pseuds/nerdwegian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, so, uh, there’s this thing that I wanted to mention," Clint says, and he sounds awkward and embarrassed.</p>
<p>(Tumblr prompt: We know Phil collects stuff. What if Clint does too?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whosits And Whatsits Galore

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [chaneen](http://chaneen.livejournal.com/) for the beta.

Maybe it’s a little cliched, but Phil’s always enjoyed the classics. So when Clint asks him at the end of the third date if he wants to come upstairs and “chill for a bit,” Phil smiles. Leaning in, he kisses Clint slowly, slipping him some tongue just because he wants to, and when he pulls back again, Clint’s got a vaguely dazed look on his face.

"Is that a yes, then?" Clint asks cheekily.

Phil just laughs and nudges him into Stark’s private elevator. They hold hands on the way up, and when the elevator stops, Phil lets Clint take the lead, pulling him out of the elevator and through a large media room—is that a TV or is that just the wall?—and into what’s clearly a communal kitchen.

"I’ve never been here before," Phil remarks, as Clint digs into the fridge for a couple of beers.

"Really?" Clint says, surprised. They sit down at the kitchen island and clink their bottles together.

"I saw the old living quarters before Stark remodeled," Phil explains. "Haven’t been to the residential floors since you guys moved in."

As if summoned by the very mention of his name on his property, Stark breezes into the kitchen, arms spread wide. “Agent!”

"Speak of the devil," Clint says.

"What are you doing here?" Stark asks, frowning at Clint. "I thought you had a date—oooh!" His face gets comically distorted as he gets it, and Phil wonders if it’s too late to cut and run. "Gotta be honest with you, I did not see that coming. Hey, is that who you went out with last month? I’m not judging, I’m genuinely curious. Also genuinely happy for you. Unless the date is not going well, though if you’re both here, drinking beer in my kitchen, it can’t be a total disaster, right?"

"Tony," Clint sighs, sounding like his patience is getting tested. Phil hides his snicker with a sip of his beer.

"Still not judging," Stark says, holding up both hands. "Dating someone you’ve known for a long time is a great idea. I fully support it. It’s worked out well for me anyway. Things can get a little weird with the whole sex thing at first, because suddenly you have to learn to be around that person after having seen them naked—"

Phil chokes on his beer and sputters, at the same time as Clint groans, ”Tony!” and hides his face in his hands.

"—but I’m sure you both can handle it."

"Handle what?" Steve asks, rounding the corner and entering the kitchen as well.

"Sex," Stark says, gesturing towards Phil and Clint.

"Why wouldn’t they handle sex?" Steve asks with a frown.

"Sex with each other," Stark clarifies. "Did you know these two are dating now?"

"Oh," Steve says, with a look of understanding, and sadly not a trace of embarrassment or discomfort. Phil’s feeling the discomfort. At least Clint seems to feel the same way, having actually pitched forward to bang his forehead against the kitchen island.

"I did actually know that; Clint told me last week," Steve says, and takes a second to smile at Phil and say, "Congratulations, by the way."

"You _knew_?” Stark says with an overdramatic gasp, one hand clutching at his chest. “Is this like, common knowledge? Am I the last to know? Why am I the last to know? I should never be the last to know anything, I mean, that’s why I have google alerts for everyone, what the hell.”

"Maybe because you ambush people with conversations about their sex life?" Steve asks pointedly.

"I did _not_ ambush—did I ambush you?” Stark asks Phil and Clint, and doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’m just trying to offer some helpful advice, you know, considering I know where Agent is coming from. I’m speaking as one employer fucking a former employee, to another.”

"Oh my god," Phil says weakly.

"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?" Clint asks. "Please say yes."

"More than I’ve wanted anything ever," Phil rushes out, and while Steve’s still arguing about the new levels of inappropriate Stark’s reached, they hightail it out of the kitchen, leaving the beers behind.

It’s not until they’re in the elevator that they relax, slumping against the wall. “Oh my god,” Phil says again.

"Amen," Clint says, looking a little disturbed. He’s just reaching out for the buttons when he stops, his hand hovering over the panel. "Where, uh—are you going up or down?"

Phil looks sideways at Clint. “Up?”

"Yeah," Clint says, a hesitant smile spreading across his face. "My room is upstairs?"

Phil’s stomach does a funny flip-flop thing and takes Clint’s other hand again. “Then—up. If you’re…?”

"Oh, I am," Clint says happily, and pushes the right button. It’s a short ride, but when the elevator stops and the doors open, Clint puts a foot in the door track and stops Phil from exiting the car, clearing his throat a little awkwardly.

"Hey, so, uh, there’s this thing that I wanted to mention," Clint says, and he sounds awkward and embarrassed.

"Is it a bad thing?" Phil asks.

"No, no," Clint says quickly, "not a bad thing, just a thing. Just—don’t laugh, okay?"

Clint tone is carefully guarded. Phil remembers Clint speaking in that same tone the first time he talked about his days in the circus. Phil remembers Agent Jackson laughing about it, and Phil remembers the look in Clint’s eyes that immediately appeared.

"I won’t laugh," Phil promises.

"Okay, good," Clint says, smile returning to his face, and Phil follows him into his room.

Clint’s “room” is really a full floor—which is really more of an apartment. The decor is absolutely nothing like the other floors of the Tower Phil has seen, all brick and steel and sturdy wood, as opposed to the elegance of Stark’s furniture. Most of the stuff is completely mismatched, old bookshelves in varying colors and lampshades that have definitely seen better days, but Phil finds that he likes it a lot; it’s very _Clint_.

"I know, I know," Clint says, mildly chagrined, "it’s kinda shabby, but I brought my stuff over from my old place—"

"I like it," Phil says easily. He wonders why Clint would possibly think Phil would laugh at him for having his own stuff brought to his new home. Smiling, he steps into Clint’s space. "You don’t have to explain yourself to me. This is your stuff."

"Yeah?" Clint says, one corner of his mouth turning upwards as Phil moves closer still, pressing their bodies together and curling his fists in Clint’s shirt.

"I like it," Phil confirms again. "I like you."

The kiss starts out slow, but quickly grows deeper and desperate, Clint’s arms wrapping around Phil, his hands spreading across Phil’s back. Phil presses closer, wanting more of Clint’s hands on him, wanting to get closer to Clint’s body, and he smiles into the kiss when Clint makes a little noise and shifts his hips forward. The hardness in his pants is unmistakable, and Phil mirrors the movement, prompting Clint to make another little sound.

When they break apart, they’re both breathing heavily, and Clint jerks his head towards the door to what Phil assumes (hopes, oh god, does he hope) is the bedroom.

"In there," Clint pants, and they stumble-kiss-walk their way there.

It does turn out to be the bedroom, thank god, and Phil’s just about to vocalize his joy over discovering Clint has an absolutely enormous bed in there, when he notices something. Pausing, Phil tilts his head, and Clint, who’s just trying to get Phil’s shirt buttons undone, looks up again. “What?” Clint asks, then follows Phil’s line of sight. “Oh. Those.”

Phil tilts his head the other way. “Are those Pez dispensers?”

Clint’s shoulders slump a little, and he winces. “Yeah, that’s—that’s sort of what I was talking about earlier.”

Phil walks closer to get a better look. A tall glass cabinet stands in one corner, every shelf filled with Pez dispensers. Some of them look very old, and some of them sit on little cardboard pieces with a year or a serial number or other information written on them.

Clint comes to stand next to Phil, and out of the corner of his eye, Phil sees Clint make a face. “I know it’s a little out there, but—”

"Out there?" Phil asks, turning to Clint.

Clint winces again and looks away.

"This is incredible!" says Phil, and Clint’s head snaps back around, staring at Phil with wide eyes. "Seriously," Phil goes on, "this is an awesome collection!"

Something spreads over Clint’s face—a kind of pride and relief Phil can’t ever recall seeing, and he kind of loves it a whole lot. Clint glances at the display, then back at Phil. “You really think so?”

"Yeah," Phil says, pointing at a dispenser sitting a little to the left, directly at eye level. "What’s that one? It doesn’t have a head."

Clint’s eyes practically light up. “Oh man! That is one of their earliest models, like, right after they started making them! I found that little guy on eBay, but he’s a little damaged, so his value is down. It’s hard finding the early ones in really great condition, though.”

"And this one?" Phil asks, pointing at a yellow dispenser with a horse head.

"That’s a Pony-Go-Round," Clint says, almost dismissively. "I mean, this cabinet isn’t my whole collection, so I have several variants of that one lying around here somewhere. I still haven’t found any of the really valuable ones, though."

Phil arches an eyebrow. “They’re really valuable?”

"Well, comparatively," Clint says, shrugging. "There are a few variants that are worth maybe about a thousand bucks."

Phil tries not to look surprised, but fails. “They’re worth that much?”

Clint laughs. “This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, you like collecting old shit, right? How much did you pay for your trading cards again?”

"Can we not bring that up?" Phil asks, sighing and making an exaggerated pout, and only being half serious. He’s still not over the loss of his trading cards. "What’s the most expensive Pez dispenser out there?"

"Easy," Clint laughs. "The 1982 World’s Fair Astronaut. They only ever made two of him and he was never for sale."

"Not in your collection I take it?" Phil asks with a wry grin.

"Not a chance," Clint says, then sighs wistfully. "I have like fifty google and eBay alerts set up in case one of ‘em resurfaces again, but it’s doubtful. Any collector worth his salt is never gonna let ‘em go. They’re worth more than thirty grand."

Phil mentally goes through the list of every dealer he knows. “If you want, I can ask around a bit, have some of my guys keep an eye out for you as well?”

"You’d do that?" Clint asks, sounding awestruck, before he huffs out a laugh. "Wait—you have _guys_? Like, collector’s items guys?”

"Of course I have guys," Phil says. "Don’t be ridiculous."

"Of course." Clint chuckles, shaking his head in good-natured disbelief. Phil continues to look at Clint’s collection, bending down to look at the bottom shelves, amazed at all the different dispenser heads he can see.

"How did you even start collecting these?" Phil asks, then laughs as he sees several Star Wars heads lined up on the very bottom shelf.

When Clint doesn’t answer immediately, Phil looks up. Clint’s got a pensive look on his face, one hand fiddling with one of his belt loops.

"Barney got me a Pez dispenser once," Clint says, then inhales quickly and shakes his head. "Actually, no, that’s—that’s not where I meant to start that story. Barney got me _Pez_ once. Just one of those things with just the candy, you know? I guess he got it from some other kid at the orphanage, and decided to give it to me instead. And he was really sorry that he couldn’t get me a dispenser as well, because this kid had one with—I don’t even know. I don’t remember what kind he had. I loved the Pez though. Of course I did. Any kid loves a candy that’s basically just compressed sugar, come on.”

Phil slowly stands up, because this is the most Clint’s ever willingly spoken about Barney or about his time before the circus.

"So," Clint continues, "after we joined the circus and shit, we’d get an allowance for the work we did. And the first thing Barney fuckin’ did was go out and buy me a Pez dispenser. So that I’d have one."

Clint leans into Phil and looks into the cabinet, pointing. “That one.”

The Pez dispenser is red, with a lion’s head. Phil smiles. “Circus themed?”

Clint smiles and says, “Of course.” He doesn’t move away from Phil again though, instead snuggling closer, putting his arms around Phil again. ”Thanks for not laughing,” Clint says, and sounds so grateful that Phil’s chest aches.

"I promised you I wouldn’t," Phil says, and kisses Clint again. "And even if I hadn’t promised, I still wouldn’t laugh. I really think this is amazing, Clint."

"Awesome," Clint says happily, before dragging Phil towards the bed. "Now can we please have sex?"

"I don’t know," Phil teases. "I have it on good authority things could get a little weird."

"Oh my god, shut up," Clint laughs, and then topples them sideways onto the bed.

End.


End file.
